Hunter Moon. Jenna Kernan

      “You can’t just take my cows,” said Izzie, but her voice lacked confidence, for she surely knew that they could and would do just that. Keeping all cattle certified and disease free was essential to their survival.

      Clyne rested a hand on Izzie’s shoulder. It was a fatherly gesture, and still it raised the hackles on Clay’s neck. He had to resist the urge to shove his brother as if they were still kids. Not that he’d ever won a fight against his eldest brother. Clyne was eight years his senior. Clay thought he might just be able to take him now. Instead he reined himself in.

      “Izzie, we’ll expedite this. I promise. If possible, we’ll get your cows a clean bill of health and get the ones that were impounded returned to you as soon as we can. But you have to help us here.”

      “Councilman,” said Izzie, “my family depends on our herd.”

      “She’s no different than the rest of us in that,” said Tessay, whom Clay recalled had a cow or two pastured in the tribe’s communal herd.

      “She is different,” argued Clay, wondering when he’d suddenly decided to pursue a career in public speaking. “Because she has more cattle than most of the other members of the tribe and because her family has been herding on this land since before they built Pinyon Fort.”

      Gabe was rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort. Clay wondered if he were the one causing that pain. He glanced to Clyne to find him grinning at him like a fool. Izzie gaped at him as if he had just sprouted a crown like one of the mountain spirits.

      Donner grasped Clay’s arm. “Will you excuse us for a minute?”

      Clay had a sinking feeling he was about to get fired as his boss led him out of earshot. Donner stopped them a short distance from the others.

      “That’s my boss you’re dressing down,” he said.

      Clay stared at the ground. Outside of the circle of the headlights, there wasn’t much to see.

      “I’m sorry, sir.”

      “What’s gotten into you? I mean, what does it matter to you, anyway?”

      “Nothing,” Clay admitted. “Izzie is an old friend.”

      Donner snorted. “Friend, huh?”

      Izzie had stopped being his concern long ago. She’d made it very clear that she didn’t want any part of him...until today, or was it yesterday? He glanced at the sky, glittering with stars, and decided from the angle of Orion that it was past midnight. He stretched his shoulders.

      “You working for her?”

      “No. Well, she asked me to read sign.”

      His boss flapped his arms. “It’s called moonlighting, and I can fire you for it. You can’t work for someone else while you’re working for me.”

      “I—I didn’t know,” Clay said.

      Donner made a face. “I believe you, son. But this isn’t just about what’s right and wrong. It’s about the appearance of right and wrong. Appearance is the same as reality.”

      Clay scratched the stubble on his chin. “I’m interested in the truth.”

      “Son, an inspector working for a rancher is a conflict of interest. That didn’t occur to you?”

      It had. In fact he’d warned Izzie that he would not be a part of anything illegal.

      “I just read the signs.”

      “Okay. You read the signs. It’s done. I’m giving you a warning and telling you to stay out of it. She needs help, she can hire your kid brother to track. Anyone on the Rez but you.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “You know I went to school with your father?”

      Clay did know because his uncle Luke had told him when he’d spoken to Donner about hiring Clay. His uncle Luke Forrest was his father’s half brother and so was not a Cosen.

      “And your uncle put in a word for you. So do us both a favor. Keep out of politics. When Tessay or Clyne are talking, you hush up unless you need to say, ‘Yes, sir.’ You got that?”

      “Yes, sir.” He said it without sarcasm but still gleaned a long, hard stare.

      His boss left him standing there and returned to the circle. Clay swiped his hand at the long grass in frustration. Izzie needed his help. But he sure needed this job. Kino found him first.

      “They’re wrapping it up for tonight. Can’t see anything, anyway.”

      “The vet here?”

      “Yeah. And Soto finally made it. They’re gonna set up tents and do the necropsy right here. Damn, that green puss is something. Ever seen anything like it?”

      Clay gave his head a slow shake. “How long for results?”

      “Couple days, at least.” Kino rested his hands on his hips, tucking his thumbs under the utility belt and staring out at the investigation, winding down as men headed for their vehicles.

      “What?” said Clay. He knew his brother well enough to know that he wasn’t done talking.

      Kino shrugged. “Clyne is worried about you and Izzie.”

      “What about us?”

      “None of my business. His, either. I told him that. But you took it pretty hard the last time is all.”

      When she’d dumped him. Great, now his brothers where discussing his love life. Add it to the long list of his failures. Must make a nice change from gossiping about his other shortcomings.

      “She hired me to read sign.”

      “Okay. Just be careful.”

      Did Kino mean because of the shooting or because he’d been a complete train wreck when Izzie had broken it off?

      “Yeah. I’ll tell her to ask you if she needs any more help reading sign.” He called himself a liar even as he uttered the words. “Told her all I could. That should be that.” But he hoped it wasn’t. He wanted to see her again, was already plotting how he could make that happen. She owed him dinner.

      “Good, because Gabe told me to remind you to leave the police work to us.” He kept his head down now as he delivered his message.

      Clay tore off his hat and raked his fingers through his hair.

      “Sorry,” muttered Kino.

      Clay turned his back on Kino and headed toward the group of men. He noted that Izzie’s truck was already gone. What had he expected, a good-night kiss?

      Clay glanced down out of habit, scanning the ground, and saw something he hadn’t before. A track—a big one, one that did not belong up here in the middle of nowhere.

      Clay lifted his head. He had to find Gabe.

       Chapter Six

      Izzie did not sleep well or much. Her wake-up call the next morning was Gabe Cosen serving her with notice that the remainder of her cows would be seized and quarantined. Her mother returned from running errands and confronted her about seeing “that Cosen boy again.” Her mother loved gossip, unless she or her family were the subject of talk. Izzie wondered if her mother ever tired of being above reproach.

      “Of all the people in this tribe to call. Really, Isabella. What were you thinking? What about that nice Mr. Patch? He certainly has made his interest known. And he has all that cattle.”

      Izzie cringed, and her mother’s hands went to her hips.

      “What’s wrong with him? I mean, we could certainly use some help around here.”

      “We’re